Page 24 of Wylder Ranch
Haven
SAYLOR: How’s it going?
HAVEN: I’m waiting for Alex in the coffee shop.
SAYLOR: For the paternity test?
HAVEN: I guess we’ll talk about it.
SAYLOR: And he’ll pass with flying colors. How’s England?
HAVEN: Cute. From what I’ve seen. But I haven’t seen a lot.
SAYLOR: So what else is happening? What about Alex? Is he still hot?
Iplace my phone down when the server comes over with the hot chocolate I ordered, and I smile my thanks at her.
Picking the marshmallows off the top, I eat them first before taking a huge gulp. It’s not quite as hot as I’d like, but the hit of chocolatey, sugary goodness goesstraight to my head, and I wake up a little more.
Neither Everly nor I got a good night’s sleep.
She wouldn’t settle. She cried; I cried. And I’m fairly certain the guests in the room next to us were crying too. I expect the owners to throw a party when we leave tomorrow.
And now, after her breakfast of fresh breast milk, Everly’s exhausted herself enough that she’s been asleep for two hours, and she’s still strapped to me. Not the most comfortable position, I’ll tell you. But she’s quiet, thankfully.
I’m not one of those people who could go back to sleep once they’ve woken up. It’s a skill I desperately wish I had. So I got dressed, bundled up Everly as best as I could, and braved the outside.
I’ve never been anywhere that could beat the fresh mountain air of Colorado. One hit of that in your lungs, and you feel like you’ll live forever. But the English countryside air gets close enough. There’s a dampness to it that wakes you up, along with a scent of earth and leaves falling, which invigorates your brain.
A couple of times, I’ve found myself thinking that if I ever had to leave Aspen and move somewhere else, I could probably live here.
I’m staring out the window watching the street come alive, when Alex walks past, and the answer to Saylor’s question pops into my head.
Yes, Alex is still hot.
Too hot. I’d forgottenhowhot. Hotter than he has any right to be at least. It’s like he was made for winter with his soft cable knits and dark jeans, making his legs look ten feet long and his ass like it was carved out of granite.
The bell above the entrance tinkles when he pushesthe door open, says hello to the girl behind the counter, and strides over to me with a smile that grows the closer he gets.
Holy hell, this guy is good-looking.
He goes to pull out the chair opposite me, hesitates, leans forward a fraction, then darts back and sits down like that wasn’t totally weird. I might be mistaken, but Ithinkhe was about to kiss my cheek.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You aren’t. I was super early. Just needed to get out, you know?”
“Sure. Yes, I know.”
He doesn’t know. There’s no way he could know, with his hair perfectly styled in that thick, floppy way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, or his bright blue eyes with healthy white corneas instead of my bloodshot ones. At least my hair is kind of fresh since I washed it two days ago at Miles’s, and Everly’s not been sick in it since, so that’s a bonus.
“Thank you for meeting me,” he says, as the server comes over again. “Morning, Gemma. Has Claudia made any cinnamon buns this morning?” His eyes flick over to me. “They’re as good as the ones in Aspen. You want one? And what are you drinking? Another coffee, or hot chocolate? I’ll go with coffee.”
I blink through the firing of questions, and it occurs to me that Alex might be nervous, which bizarrely has my shoulders dropping and my body relaxing. Also, his mention of cinnamon buns has me biting down on a smile. I don’t know why I thought he wouldn’t remember the cinnamon buns from Aspen’s bakery, given he was in there every morning, but the fact that he did is making my tummy feel all warm and squirrely.
I force myself to look away from him and up to the server—Gemma—who’s waiting for my answer.
“Another hot chocolate would be good. Thank you.”
